Daveth
by shogei
Summary: A prequel story about Daveth meeting Duncan.


"This is crap," said Goldanna.

"Tis not!" cried Daveth. "I pulled this off a Bann's own lapel. It's genuine real!"

"Hmph, must have been a poor Bann tryin' to show off. It's nice and shiny, but cheap. The gems are riddled with flaws."

"What is wrong with you? It's an art piece."

"Art pieces are worthless. I can't sell 'em whole. I need to break 'em up to stones and metal, so that's all I look at. And what I'm lookin' at is crap." She tossed the jeweled pin down on the table. "I'll give you fifteen."

"Feh! Twenty-five or I take it down the street."

"Twenty-five will take you down the street and right back here. No-one will give you that. Sixteen."

Daveth frowned at Goldanna. Sixteen silvers wouldn't pay his debts. "Twenty-two. And a load of shirts." He knew that laundry made up a good portion of her income, and that she hated it.

Goldanna snorted, "You don't own a load of shirts. Eighteen."

"A clean twenty, no less. Otherwise I might as well go and give it back."

Goldanna nodded and swept the pin into her pocket. "A twenty it is" and lay a thin wedge of gold on the table. The smirk on her face told Daveth that she had come out better on the deal.

"A displeasure doing business with you," grumbled Daveth and took his earnings. He bit it, more to annoy Goldanna than from any real doubts about the gold. He got the expected scowl and skulked out the door.

Serah was waiting for him outside. "Well?" she asked.

"A chit. Basically what I expected," shrugged Daveth. He then smiled. He actually liked dealing with Goldanna. She was a small time fence and crooked, but she was predictable.

"Well that'll pay off Orland and buy a pot of porridge. No pain." Serah smiled, her brown eyes twinkling at the thought of a hot meal. Daveth thought she looked better today. She was still impossibly thin, but there was color in her cheeks. A hot meal could only help.

"Ay, that'll be nice. Perhaps a bite of berry pie, too," Daveth's brown eyes mirroring those of his sister's. Daveth linked his arm in hers and they started down the street.

Denerim was in high stench today. The gutters were filled to overflowing with various types of filth. The heat of late summer was rising off the cobblestones in waves. Every window was open allowing a thousand different languid arguments to spill into the streets. Soldiers, errand boys, and servants moved with purpose. Everyone else trudged along as if they were carrying the weather upon their shoulders.

Daveth asked Serah, "How'd you do today?"

"I cap'd six. Enough to pay for a flop for a few nights." Serah said. As usual she walked with her head bowed, her dark hair falling in her face, but Daveth could tell by the sound of her voice that she was happy.

"Good thing. Looks like it might rain," Daveth eyed the sky suspiciously. "Though that might do something about the smell."

He and Serah had been living day to day for the better part of 6 years, ever since their mother died. Their father was too drunk to care for them and too mean to live around. Serah had taken her little brother and, at the grand age of thirteen, had become the head of their tiny family. Most days in summer were spent sleeping in the streets, which were normally more cool and comfortable than any place they could afford boarding. When the rains came, however, any sane person sought a roof. There was never a gentle rain in Denerim. It was either bone dry or pouring.

They strolled through the market district of the city, both of them swinging their eyes around and looking for easy marks; someone with a parcel laid to the side while they shopped, someone with a purse hanging loose and low. It had been a rough summer and they had no coin left over for the winter. Serah's persistent cough had drained away everything they had saved together. The coming cold would only make things worse and Daveth was worried.

"Peacock!" said Serah.

"Where?" Daveth looked around. He followed her pointed finger to find two armored men walking out of a tavern. Both were well kept and wearing tabards and chainmail. One had the king's sign of an eagle in red, the other was a griffon in grey. He gave a sidelong glance to Serah. "We agreed, no guards."

"The one there ain't a guard," she said, smiling wickedly.

"No, he's a Maker's blessed Grey Warden, that's all!" He looked at her incredulously. The Wardens were the most famous warrior order in the land. They pulled from the best and the brightest throughout the kingdom in order to fight the supernatural darkspawn. They may not have power of arrest, but they were not to be messed with.

"A Grey Warden with a taste in jewelry," Serah said, teasingly. "And that still doesn't make him a guard. He's fair game." She leaned in close "Cowards challenge."

"Since when did you decide to kill me?" Daveth moaned. A coward's challenge could not be turned down unless he was willing to give her all the coin in his pocket. That meant he would be unable to pay off his debt to Orland, which meant he would be royally pummeled by this time tomorrow. He looked at Serah's chosen mark and she was right, he did have a taste for jewelry. A gold chain hung around his neck and a fat gold earring shone on his left ear. Daveth could see no sign of a purse, but he probably had that tucked away safe. He gritted his teeth, "I hate you."

"I hate you too," she said and gave him a peck on the cheek. "See you at Noola's. I'll get us a room."

She stepped away and quickly disappeared in the crowd. Daveth groaned and looked around. He needed a path in and a path out. He would have to catch them unaware and he would only get one shot. He followed the two men warily.

The Warden and the guard wandered slowly past the fresh farmer's wares in the Vegetable Square. It was officially known as King Leod's square, but nobody without a fur collar called it that. The local farms set up long, wide tables full of produce for the daily feeding of the city's masses. It was here that most young thieves in Denerim cut their teeth. The square was always filled with shoppers who always had money, even if only enough for the day's bread. If a thief were too squeamish to rob from the patrons there was always food to steal. Most grocers didn't even mind if you snatched a piece of fruit or veggie that had fallen to the ground. Touch their pallets, though, and they would beat you black.

For an adult thief, Vegetable Square was a nightmare. Too big to run under the tables, he'd be faced with long straight rows, jostling crowds, and plenty of guards. It was hard to dodge away in such a market. He would have to wait until until they moved elsewhere. He slipped forward to see if he could catch a hint of where his target was headed so he could determine the best place to strike. Daveth knew better than to rush. He wandered and browsed, eventually making his way closer to the two armored men.

The king's guard was wearing the shoulder stripes of a captain. He was a large man with thinning hair and a round, red face. An impressive man under normal circumstances, he seemed to somehow be overshadowed by the smaller man next to him. The Warden was of average build, average height and average looks. However, he carried himself with a quiet confidence that marked him as a leader. The Wardens didn't wear symbols of rank so Daveth couldn't tell how high in the order this man rested. He imagined the Warden was a captain as well, judging by the friendly way the guardsman addressed him.

"Surely things can't be that dire," scoffed the captain, shrugging his massive shoulders. "We've seen absolutely nothing in the north and even the south says the darkspawn are limited to the Wilds."

"For now, yes. But I have been in the Wilds and the darkspawn are everywhere. I feel in my bones that this is more than just a surface surge," said the Warden, his voice low and measured. His eyes and hair were dark and his skin swarthy, much like Daveth's himself. Daveth found himself wondering if the man had Rivain blood in him, as he had from his father.

"Pshaw! You're a worrier," the captain placed a beefy hand on the Warden's shoulder. "You've been talking about a Blight for the last twenty years." The Warden briefly glanced at the captain and the hand was removed.

"I have reason to worry. I'm a Warden. I can tell when things are not right. There is a darkness down south like I have never seen before. The sooner we can get it addressed, the better for all."

The captain shrugged, "If you say so. We'll see if the king shares your opinion at the meet tomorrow. I've got to tell you, if he sends troops south there are plenty who are going to scream and cry."

"As long as they go, that's all that matters," replied the Warden.

The captain sniffed, "Good luck, then." He stopped at an alleyway. "I'm down this way. You want to come walk the walls a while?"

"No, thank you. I'm going to head back to the Warden compound. I have a feeling tomorrow will be a long day."

"Suit yourself. Enjoy the apples," said the captain, motioning to a small cloth bag the Warden had tucked into his belt.

"Thank you, friend. I will indeed." The two men grasped wrists, then parted. The captain tromped down the alley while the Warden headed forward down the main street.

Daveth smiled. Everyone knew where the Warden compound was and the shortest route there from Vegetable Square was through the small goods market, known simply as the Smago to the locals. Pretty much anything that could be carried but not eaten was sold in the Smago; clothing, art, baskets, pots of ceramic or metal, and much more.

Daveth preferred the confusion of the Smago to the orderliness of Vegetable Square. There was less traffic so less need for room between the stalls. The booths were small and crowded together, the paths through them twisting and difficult to navigate. Tables went up where-ever there was room for one. The cries of the hawkers could easily drown out the angry yells of a victim. The guards had a deuced time trying to chase anyone down there and a good thief with knowledge of the market could easily slip away. Daveth considered himself a great thief.

The dark-haired Warden was clearly worried. He walked with his head down, lost in thought. "Poor fellow," thought Daveth. "I'm about to make his day a heck of a lot worse." Daveth began talking to his muscles, as he always did before a snatch. He imagined himself no longer walking on the ground, but floating just above it. His body relaxed and flowed around the people walking past him. His boots stopped making noise and his presence seemed to go unnoticed even by the people who brushed him. He needed to choose a pick. The only bag the man had was the one that apparently held his apples. Daveth blessed the Maker that he had overheard that part of the conversation. There was his necklace, but it looked too thick to snap. That left the earring.

Once picked it was time to move. His breath calm, Daveth quickened his step, then quickened it more. By the time he reached the Warden he was at a silent run. Even so he saw the Warden raise his head, but it was a moment too late. Daveth's right pinky slid into the golden hoop dangling from the Warden's left ear and he just kept running. A howl of pain sounded at his back, but Daveth paid it no mind. His feet were moving even faster now. He was like a stream of water flowing between the stalls and the crowds. He loved this part of the game. He felt free, powerful, and richer than he was a moment before. He smiled and spared a glance behind him.

The Warden was no more that ten feet away and running hard. Daveth hadn't even heard him. A surge of panic sent Daveth spurting forward. Daveth knew the Smago like he knew his own name, if his name had the habit of changing every few hours. He knew the areas that were were likely to be blocked and which offered access to escape. He headed for large, brown brick building that intruded into the market street. There was a fence across the alley on the far side of the building. A good, ten foot fence. There was also a very convenient rain gutter at the corner of the building. Both were invisible from here.

Daveth poured on the speed. He didn't dare look back again for fear of losing pace. There was a table set up at the corner of his chosen building, as there always was. With a leap he was on it, sending small satin ribbons flying about his feet and a young girl with a dirty mouth scrambling to catch them. Flinging himself upwards at the seemingly featureless building wall, he reached around and found the expected gutter. He tugged, spinning himself around the corner. A kick off a gutter support and he was grasping the edge of the fence. Up he pulled and he was sitting on top. He looked down as the Warden came around the corner. The Warden's ear was dripping blood onto his otherwise immaculate tabard and he really didn't look too happy about it. Daveth gave him a wave and a smile and dropped down on the other side.

Daveth strolled away examining the earring that was sitting on his pinky finger. It was good quality, possibly solid gold. Maybe even half a sovereigns worth. That could pay for a real doctor for once, not just an alley barber. Or maybe a month's lodging in a cheap enough room. A rattle behind him drew his attention. A set of grey gloved fingers had appeared at the top of the fencing. He heard the sound of boots scraping against wood as the Warden pulled himself up.

"Maker's breath!" cursed Daveth and started running again.

This area off the Smago held a number of small, segmented warehouses. Many of the merchants who sold in that market stored their goods here. There were also a few large warehouses where things such as furniture and other larger items were kept. It was to one of these larger warehouses that Daveth headed now. The buildings were close together here, many touching. Daveth scanned the street until he saw what he wanted. There were a number of crates being unloaded from a cart and being stacked against a wall of a lower warehouse. A kick of speed and Daveth lept onto a crate, then to a short stack of crates, and then onto the roof. He had no doubts that a man who could scale a ten foot fence in chainmail would be able to follow him. But the Warden would not know the rooftops the way Daveth did.

Daveth scurried across the roof and towards the larger warehouse adjoining. There was a ladder here to allow access to the higher roof. He lept onto it at the fifth rung and climbed as fast as he knew how. Only at the top did he dare take a glance back. The Warden was there, as expected, and had already started on the ladder. Daveth turned and dashed across the roof to where a metal pole barely poked up above the edge of the roof. He aimed himself eight feet to the left of the pole.

He skidded to a stop at his chosen location and peeked over. He smiled. The winch was hanging exactly where he hoped it would be, flush against the wall of the warehouse. The winch and its large metal hook was attached to a braced metal arm that ran to the tall pole to his right. When in use the arm would pivot out and allow pallets to be lifted up into the upper floor of the warehouse. Daveth turned, grasped the eave, and dropped over the edge. As he did so he spotted the Warden racing across the roof towards him.

"Maker help me," Daveth breathed and let go. A quickdrop and a grab and he caught the metal arm. He swung himself up to straddle the arm and slid towards the winch. Reaching out he tugged loose the rope that bound the arm to the wall. A kick with his left leg and the whole arm swung out over the street. Daveth wrapped his arms around the bar and held on tight. When the arm extended directly out from the wall it locked, stopping suddenly and sending the end shuddering in a sickening manner.

"You! Stop!" The Warden was at the roof edge now and glaring at him. He face was red and his fists clenched.

Daveth smiled. "Look out below!" he called, then pulled the locking pin out of the winch. With a squeal the rope around the winch unwound, dropping the heavy hook crashing to the cobblestones below. Daveth replaced the pin and grabbed the rope. Hand over hand he lowered himself to the ground below. Once again he dared a wave. The Warden would have to back track all the way across the roof to the ladder in order to follow him.

The Warden scowled down at Daveth then stepped out onto the arm. Daveth stared, as did a number of other people standing in the street. The Warden moved strangely, his toes pointed inwards, but did so at a normal walking speed. Daveth shook his head in amazement as a small voice began talking at the back of his mind. "Daveth, you really should be doing something. Something like leaving. Quickly. You should be running, Daveth. Daveth, run. Run. RUN!"

"Maker's balls!" Daveth shouted aloud. The Warden had already reached the winch and was reaching for the rope. Daveth turned, shoving his way through the small crowd. Once free of them, he dashed down the street. He was running out of known escape routes. Behind him he heard a round of applause. The Warden must have reached the ground. Daveth willed himself to go faster but his feet refused to grow wings nor did the wind switch to his back. What did help was fear, and he now had plenty of that. In desperation he headed for a nearby residential district.

Two blocks and a wide avenue later, Daveth reached a large collection of houses. His face was dripping in sweat and his lungs were screaming at him. He refused to look behind him. He could imagine the Warden with his hand just inches from Daveth's collar and reaching. He shook his head to fling the sweat from his face and kept running. "Damn that Warden," Daveth thought, "How does such a man learn to run silently? And in armor!"

The houses here were all two to three stories high and close together. The roads before them were clean and each house had a garden in the back with an alleyway behind. These weren't the estates of the rich, but they were for the reasonably wealthy. Shop and ship owners lived here. Daveth normally did not stray into this area as the guards were quick to notice him, but he didn't have much choice. His last known dodge was here.

Down another block and a turn to the right. It was only one more block away. His body screamed "Too far!" but he ignored it. He gritted his teeth, dipped his head and pushed even harder. He never even saw the guardsman step out from the side street. He smashed into him, sending the guard sprawling and Daveth tumbling across the cobblestones. He didn't even pause, rolling back up onto his feet and racing forward.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" a voice bellowed behind him. Normally Daveth would have chuckled at the brilliance of the guardsman's retort, but he was busy panicking. Silently cursing the delay that the collision had caused he pushed himself forward. He reached the house he wanted, a beautiful green house with a giant, rose-covered trellis. Daveth threw himself at the trellis like it was a lover. Thorns tore at his hands and clothes but he ordered hid body to ignore the pain. In a matter of moments he had scrambled to the top and onto the roof. He turned to see how far the Warden had come.

To Daveth's satisfaction he saw that the Warden had been grabbed by the guard who was trying to question him. The Warden wouldn't be held up long, Daveth knew, but it should be long enough. He reached down and grabbed one of the brackets holding the trellis in place. With a fear-feuled pull he tugged it loose. He lept sideways to the next bracket. Two tugs brought this one out. The Warden was pointing to the roof and then his ear. The guard looked upward and started moving forward along with the Warden. Further to the left and Daveth grabbed the last bracket. His hands were bleeding badly and this one was anchored tightly in. His fingers slipped from his own blood. The Warden had reached the bottom of the trellis now and appeared to be deciding whether to climb up. The guard had begun pounding on the door to the house. Daveth wiped his hands across his shirt, wondering how much he would have to pay Goldanna to clean this up. One tug, two, three and the last bracket came free just as the Warden reached out to grasp the trellis. Daveth pushed and the upper half of the trellis leaned outwards, then fell back against the wall. It was still anchored in the middle and at the bottom. The Warden actually looked up at him and smiled. He started climbing up, his thick gloves and armor protecting him from any thorns.

"Andraste's anus" spat Daveth and flipped onto his hands and knees. He took a deep breath, then did a donkey kick with all his might. He heard a crack and the trellis tilted a little away. He kicked again and the trellis broke in half at the middle anchor. The top swung downwards, threatening to pin the Warden in a rosy embrace against the lower half. With a cry of frustration the Warden lept free. Daveth hissed, then turned and scurried across the rooftop.

He knew these roofs. Leaping from one to another he knew he would reach and cross a large wall that marked the old boundary of the city. There was no other way to the far side for two blocks around and no easy way for the Warden to follow onto the roof. For the first time in several minutes he allowed himself to think he might actually make it. Running along the ridge lines he jumped from house to house. The wall was less than a hundred feet ahead of him, then eighty, then fifty.

Thwack! His jaw was slugged sideways and he found himself tumbling down the slanted roof. He glanced around as best he could but saw noone. Then he was free falling. An odd sensation. He actually had time to think, "Some one punched me? That's impossi-OOF."

It took a while for Daveth's eyes to find the front of his head. He didn't even know how long he lay there, but he knew it was too long. He had landed on his back in a bed of flowers, to which he credited his survival. With a groan he turned on his side. Lying beside him was a bright red apple. "That son of a bitch," he muttered. He continued onto his hands and knees, taking a couple of deep breaths to beat down the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

After what seemed a lifetime he had the presence of mind to look around. There was a stone walkway inches to his right. He blessed the Maker both that it was there and that he was not on it. He carefully shifted over to the walk and came to his feet. Collecting himself he carefully moved down the walkway as quietly as he could manage and avoiding any dirt so as not to leave tracks. He made his way to the gate at the back of the garden and peeked out. He saw noone. He slipped out and then over the gate at the far side of the alley.

This new garden had no path but it did have edging stones along the flower beds. He tiptoed along them as he made his way to the rear of the house. He examined the padlock on the door leading into the cellar and judged it insufficient to his normal skill. For a tired, shaky Daveth it would be a little more difficult. He pulled out his lockpick and it promptly dropped to the ground. Daveth bit his lip, picked it up, and began to work on the padlock. He was trying to be silent but his hands were not cooperating. He prayed the noise he made could not be heard beyond the garden. He almost exclaimed aloud in relief when the lock finally yielded.

He slipped into the darkness and found it welcoming and cool. He felt his way to a column and slid to the ground. He began to ponder how much trouble he was in. He was sure someone along his wild route would be able to pin a name to him. He wondered how far out of town one earring and 20 silver would take him. Would he be able to bring Serah? Would he even be able to reach her?

"I believe you have something of mine," a voice growled in his ear.

Daveth lept to his feet and his stomach lept onto his throat. He felt two strong hands grasp his lapels. He had no time to think, he just reacted. He pulled his legs tight to his chest. This left the Warden holding Daveth's entire weight with his upper body, forcing him to fall forward as Daveth fell backwards. When he felt his back touch the ground he kicked out with both his feet and caught the Warden's lower thighs. The Warden's legs flew upwards and he was now pointed head down toward the ground. With a pull Daveth could bring him crashing into the floor with his entire weight on his neck. It was a maneuver called the "Reverse Hangman" and was generally fatal. Daveth was no murderer. He pushed with one arm and pulled with the other, causing the Warden to land on his right shoulder with a sickening crunch and a loud grunt.

Daveth breathed with relief and pushed himself to his feet. He quickly bent back over, bracing his hands on his knees and tried not to vomit. He could hear the Warden groaning beside him. "You alright, Ser?" he asked. The Warden was quiet a moment, tried to chuckle then sucked in a breath. "I hope you don't mind if I take that as a yes." He stood up straight and said "I'll send help when I get far enough."

He turned and stepped away, but his foot never found the floor. Instead he hit it with his face. He heard a crunch and pain exploded through his jaw. He felt something on his ankle and realized the Warden had tripped him. "Bathtard!" he yelled, finding his teeth were not precisely where he had left them.

"Now that I have your attention," the Warden said in a tight voice, "I would like to make a proposal."

"Thuck eggs!" cried Daveth. He cocked his free leg then pushed backwards as hard as he could with his arms, intending to kick the Warden with all his remaining strength. He felt the Warden twist around and merely succeeded in launching his own groin into the Warden's armored knee.

The world went away for a while. Daveth thought he could hear a pig squealing in his ear but then realized it was himself. He was coming back to awareness when the guards came in, pulling Daveth to his feet. The earring fell to the ground with a quiet clink and glittered in the light coming through the door. "Oh! I've been looking for that." said the Warden and scooped it up. Daveth would have cursed him but was afraid he would end up spitting out a tooth or two.

Daveth knees would not work so they had to drag him from the cellar. The Warden followed, holding his arm close to him gingerly and giving Daveth a thoughtful look.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

The rain fell on Denerim like it was poured from a bucket. The sound drummed on every roof and rushed through the gutters. Daveth looked out the cell window though it was too dark to see. It was better than looking at the water falling down Serah's face. He knew she wanted him to comfort her, to tell her it was not her fault. However she was not the one hanging in the morning.

The trial had taken less than 5 minutes. The Warden had not even be present to testify against him and they had still found him guilty of robbery and murderous assault. Daveth found it ironic considering that he could have killed the Warden but decided not to.

He sighed, shifted, and checked the cloth in his hands for fresh blood. He had pushed his loosened teeth back into their proper position and was trying to hold them there. He was not convinced they would stay. Not that it mattered, he reflected, dead men don't need teeth.

He turned and rested his back against the wall. Serah looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen. She was so pale and thin. Daveth's stomach turned when he thought what might become of her without him. He decided he couldn't part with her like that. "It's alright, Serah," Daveth lisped. "I could have turned you down."

"Not without facing Orland," wept Serah. "I put your back against the wall."

Daveth shrugged, "You couldn't know what would happen. We've taken risks before."

She stepped forward and reached through the bars. Daveth started to step towards her but the hall guard barked "No touching" and moved to push Serah away.

"Please," begged Serah. "He's my brother. This may be the last time I ever see him. Can't you let me touch him one last time?"

The guard winked at Daveth then leered at Serah, "It's possible we can work something out."

Daveth clenched his fists at his side and shook his head briskly. Serah saw him and dropped her head, slowly shaking it "No."

"Your loss," said the guard and pinched her cheek.

The door to the jail hallway clicked open and the guard quickly stepped back to his post. In walked the large captain from the morning followed by the Grey Warden. The Warden was wearing a sling on his right arm but was carrying himself a lot better than when Daveth had last seen him. His ear had been healed and the earring was back, but worn a little higher so as not to dangle so much. Daveth smirked. "So, are you here to gloat?"

The Warden turned to his companion and said "Thank you, Bren." The captain nodded then waved the guard to him. The two of them stepped out the door.

The Warden walked up to the cell and nodded at Serah, "Good evening, my lady. You are his sister, I understand?"

Serah nodded, nervously.

The Warden turned his dark gaze on Daveth and he felt himself shrink back. "I believe I tried to offer you a proposal, before you interrupted me."

Daveth scowled, "Aye."

"Are you willing to listen now"

"It seems I have no choice."

"You are correct. You do not." The Warden then smiled. "I was wondering if you were interested in becoming a Grey Warden"

Daveth stared at him, waiting for the punch line.

Serah spoke first, "But Daveth is no warrior."

The Warden looked at her, "The Wardens take more than warriors. Your brother is smart, agile and fast. He also has some skills at combat." He motioned to the sling.

"You're serious?" said Daveth, incredulous.

"I never joke about this," said the Warden, in a tone that made Daveth believe he was telling the truth.

"What about?..." Serah bit her lip and motioned to towards the courtyard where the scaffolding stood.

"I have the ability to conscript anyone I wish, including the condemned. And considering he was condemned for trying to murder me, they truly can't protest too strongly."

Daveth and Serah looked at one another for a long moment. "What happens to her?" he asked.

"You will be unable to visit, I am afraid. Wardens must leave behind such things. There is a 5 sovereign payout for your recruitment. I imagine your sister could make use of that. There will be a small salary to pay for incidentals, all else being provided for you. What you choose to do with that is up to you."

Serah was staring open-mouthed. Daveth looked at her. That was more money than they had ever held. It was enough to get her well. Enough for a real start.

He turned to the Warden. "So when do we leave?"

"Immediately. I already warned the captain I was considering this. He is a little upset but can do little. I will summon him back now. We will then get you to a healer. You look horrible."

The Warden turned to go. As he reached for the door Daveth called out "Warden?"

The Warden turned.

"I just want to say, thank you. For saving my life and everything."

"As long as you show the same skill against the darkspawn as you did against me, I think I am ahead in the bargain."

"Oh right," remembered Daveth aloud. "The darkspawn. Forgot about them. Fun. Whee."

The Warden smiled. "It is better than getting hung."

"Oh yes!" agreed Daveth. "I, uh, am looking forward to it."

"I thought you would." The Warden opened the door. " And by the way, my name is Duncan."


End file.
